


Half-Past Midnight

by IdleLeaves



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Friends With Benefits, M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-26 12:55:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13858197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IdleLeaves/pseuds/IdleLeaves
Summary: "So," Chris says, failing to sound casual. "You going to tell me what's bothering you?"





	Half-Past Midnight

It's nearing midnight when Victor catches Chris's eye across the pub and nods toward the door. It takes some time to meet him there; the pub is packed with skaters - some of whom will not be attending tomorrow's banquet - and it wouldn't be right to slip out without saying their goodbyes.

Outside, the wind - damp with the promise of spring - is cold enough that Chris bows his head against it and shoves his chilled hands into his pockets. Victor is quiet, beside him. He'd been quiet all evening; every time Chris had glanced toward him he was listening rather than talking, though the smile - that bright, media-ready smile - had never left his face.

Chris keeps the conversation going for both of them along the streets until they're through the hotel doors and in front of the elevator. They step in, together, and after a split-second of hesitation Victor punches the number for Chris's floor rather than his own. It's not a surprise.

Inside Chris's room, they shed their coats and boots. "Five world championships," Chris says, parroting the reporters who had followed them, at intervals, through the afternoon. "How does it feel?"

"Like I need another drink," Victor replies, and Chris takes that as his cue to retrieve the bottle of wine he'd stashed in the mini-fridge earlier. He hands it to Victor and moves to find glasses, but by the time his hands are on them the bottle is open and Victor's taken a sip straight from it.

Chris sets the glasses back down. Victor drops down onto the sofa and Chris joins him, pulling Victor's feet into his lap. They pass the bottle back and forth for a while in silence; the clock on the wall ticks away the seconds, then the minutes.

"So," Chris says, failing to sound casual. "You going to tell me what's bothering you?"

Victor swallows a mouthful of wine. "When did I say--"

"You didn't," Chris interrupts. "But it's half-past midnight, you've already left the pub, and," he pauses a moment to look Victor up and down, "you're still wearing all of your clothes."

Victor laughs, but it's the bold laugh he saves for the cameras. "Stop that," says Chris, voice quiet and mild.

Victor's smile fades. "Sorry," he says. "I'm just... tired."

"Are you getting enough sleep?"

"That's not the kind of tired I mean," Victor admits; he raises his head, then, and looks Chris in the eye. Chris can see it, now that they're out of the spotlight - the way the spark in Victor's eyes looks duller than usual, close to overshadowed by something Chris refuses to put a name to.

Victor offers him the wine, but Chris shakes his head. "What are you going to do about it?" he asks.

"I don't know," says Victor.

"No grand plan?" Chris says to lighten the mood. "You surprise me."

The attempt falls flat. "At least I can still do that to someone," Victor says.

Chris has no suitable response to that. He reverts, instead, to the familiar, and leans across to kiss Victor - slow and deep. Victor tilts his head to accept it, but doesn't raise his arms to wrap around Chris's neck.

"Do you want... ?" Chris asks.

"No," says Victor.

"Okay," says Chris, and brushes his thumb over Victor's cheek before gently backing away. He corks the wine and sets it on the end table. 

"You're a good friend, Chris," says Victor. His words are starting, just slightly, to slur - not from alcohol but sleepiness, instead.

Chris smiles. "You want to stay?" 

Victor's response is a simple nod. "Bed, then," says Chris, and stands, offering his hand to pull Victor to his feet; he folds down the bedcovers and flips off the lights, then strips off his shirt, belt, and pants as Victor does the same. Victor falls into bed on his back, and Chris curls in beside him, pulling the covers up over them both.

Victor sighs, and even in the dark Chris can see that his eyes are open, staring up at the ceiling. "Want to talk about it?" Chris asks, softly.

"No," says Victor, too quickly. Then, moments later, "Yes."

Footsteps and muffled laughter pass by their door then fade away down the hall. Chris grasps Victor's hand under the blankets, and settles in to listen.


End file.
